A Second Glance
by ForeverMeansAlways
Summary: What if three particular agents took a different path and they were the criminals. Can the others stop them in time, or is there more to their crime than what meets the eye? Morgan/Emily/Reid focus.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** What if three particular agents took a different path and they were the criminals. Can the others stop them in time, or is there more to their crime than what meets the eye ?Morgan/Emily/Reid focus.

**A/N: **I've had this story on my mind for awhile, and I actually had it written, I just never got around to posting it. I'm board now (Even though I should be studying for Finals) I'm going to post it now. OH! and for everyone who is reading my other stories (like Unspoken words, Silent Sounds, etc...) I promise, promise, I'll update soon. I had this weird writer's block for all of my stories, where I could write 2/3rds of the chapter, but couldn't figure out how to finish them. Well, I got most of them finished, so expect updates soon.

Oh The first sentence is a quote from the book Vanishing Acts, written by Jodie Picoult.

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**A Second Glance**

"_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference," ~Robert Frost; The Road Not Taken _

**Chapter 1**

You can't exist in this world without leaving a piece of yourself behind. There are concrete paths. Different paths you can take everyday. Some harmful; some beneficial. Some life changing; some deadly. Some make none the difference. But either way it's a path, and as soon as you take that first step onto that dusty road, there is no going back – you can't. Even if you want to, for you can't turn back the clocks.

And this is how the word regret came to be.

Now – five minutes before 'the plan' – Derek Morgan wonders what would have happened if his father hadn't died or if he hadn't dropped out of school, or if he hadn't gotten into that fight with Rodney so many years ago. He could even go as far as to question what would have happened if he never met Emily or Reid. Surely not what he is about to do now.

So many unanswered questions, so many regrets, and yet he's glad he has them. In an odd way they are family. Family met by chance – or maybe by fate. He can't be sure. But they _are _family and the only ones he has left.

"_You should have walked into that bank thirty-two seconds ago." _

The voice roughly breaks him from his thoughts. "Why do you always have to be so exact, Kid?" Morgan says into the ear piece. It's not hidden. It's not meant to be. It looks like your normal headpiece. Far as anybody who sees him knows, he is just taking a business call.

And technically he is.

Reid stutters on the other line. _"Emily's, already in there. She might be –"_

"Kid, Emily isn't watching the clock like a hawk. I don't think she'll mind if I'm thirty seconds late." Morgan takes the smallest of glances towards the car that is parked not more than a block away. It's not your typical getaway car. It's small and sliver, and it can hardly hold four people. But it looks like every other car in Washington D.C., and this is why they _always_ get away with it.

"_Well, I…" _Reid begins, but must have decided against it, because he goes with, _"The security is down and the cameras are already switched." _

"All good then?"

"_Yeah."_

And because Morgan can't help himself, he adds, "See-ya later, Sundance." He hears Reid grumble on the other line, which only makes him laugh harder.

"_Why do I have to be the Sundance Kid?" _

It is their code names. They once saw a movie about the famous robbing duo, so they split it into three names instead of two, and it just sort of stuck. Him as Butch. Emily as Cassidy. And Reid as the Sundance Kid.

"Would you rather be Cassidy?"

"_No, but –" _

"Exactly my point. Over and out."

And even though Reid can just very well watch the whole thing fold out on his laptop, he doesn't hang up. This way, if something goes wrong, they'll all go down together. The kid doesn't know it, but Morgan is thankful that his friend is just a word away. It's comforting.

And Morgan wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

*******

"A man and a woman robbed a Capital One about one month ago from today," JJ tells them, and then clicks the remote to the next picture slide. "And then another Capitol One was robbed three months before that. Police believe that there have been other cases going all the way back to three to five years. Each robbery takes place between a one or eight months span. Since the robberies have been so scattered, police didn't believe that it was the same duo. "

"What makes them believe that it's the same unsubs now?" Gideon asks.

JJ passes out the folders for all of them to examine. "Witnesses all gave the same description on _how_ the bank was robbed, and the man calls 911 himself." She clicks to the next slide, but it was grainy and utterly pointless. If you look hard enough, you _might _be able to make out a blob that could be a person. "This picture doesn't give us much now, but I was hoping Garcia might be able to do something with it."

Garcia looks unsure. "I'll try," is all she says.

"Camera and security was all shut down. The police aren't sure how they managed that one."

"What about the hostages?" Hotch asks. "What did they say?"

JJ sighs before glancing down at the file, just to see if she got it right. "The woman's tall. Pale and dark-haired. But another witness, from another robbery, swears that the woman had blond hair. Another claims that it was red. The only thing that they agreed on was that the male is African-American, and – quote –'hot'."

"So basically that could be anyone in D.C," Elle argues. And because she always has to make things difficult, she asks, "How the hell are we suppose to catch them if they haven't robbed a bank in a month? You said it yourself they could wait six months before going at it again."

"Not quite," Rossi cuts in before JJ can. "The robberies are getting closer together. Look at the dates."

Gideon adds, "They're beginning to thrive off of it. They live off of it now. They won't be able to stop."

JJ nods. "Police believe that if they keep it up, their next robbery will be in the next few days. And judging from the previous robberies, it won't be long."

"They appear to favor Capitol One for whatever reason," Hotch notes. "That's most likely their next target."

"Do you know how many Capitol One's there are in the city?" Elle argues. "Not to mention outside the city. They could be anywhere."

Garcia looks ready to throw up. "I go to a Capital One."

"Do you realize the chances of them robbing the_ same _bank you go to? Not to mention at the same time you're there." Elle raises her eyebrows smugly.

"Maybe our unsubs works with the company or delivers something to these banks," Rossi points out.

"On it," Garcia says, jumping up, and more than ready to get out of the conference room, she runs out the door.

Hotch stands up, ready to give orders. "JJ and Gideon interview the hostages. See if you can get any information on how the robberies took place. Surely, something stood out. If we know their tactics, then we can set up a press conference." He pauses to lock eyes with Rossi. "Rossi stay here and work on victomology. Elle you're with me."

And like always, they hold their heads up high, ready for a long day of work.

*******

Morgan walks into the bank with his head held high. He is dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt; just like every other guy, but because the security guard is a prejudice asshole, he sees him as a threat. And because of this, Morgan can almost feel the man's eyes on him now.

But it's part of their plan.

If every eye is trained on him they won't even notice Emily. He has to admit though, it bothers him sometimes. Why is he always the one that automatically gets a red warning sign above their head? Even when he _tries_ to look non-threatening, he still manages to attract someone's attention. It's not like he looks anymore dangerous than the white guy in line with the multiple tattoos covering his body.

"_Emily's to your left. At the table," _Reid says, and the earpiece echoes in his ear.

He causally walks over to where Emily is standing. She can not look anymore normal. Blue shirt, jeans, kind smile. He smirks. It's always the people you'd least expect it.

Slowly, they lock eyes. Nobody notices. It's now or never, so he gives her a wink – their signal. And just for the kick of things, he gives her a grin that could simultaneously weaken any girl's knees. She sends him one back, and then quicker than he ever could, she pulls the gun out of her boot and fires three warning shots into the air.

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**A/n:**So I decided to bring Elle into this because I thought if she never knew Morgan, then they never would have gone to that beach or wherever they went in the final of season one. And if she never went there, then that guy might not have shot her, and then so on. So she's in the story. Gideon and Rossi are in it at the same time because - really I just didn't feel like making up characters.

If I continue, I might make this a Emily/Hotch story with hints of Emily/Morgan. And possibly Garcia/Morgan. Idk yet. but for now there's no pairings

But what do you guys think. Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for everybody who reviewed!!! means a lot. And I WILL update all of my stories soon. I have not (Though it may seem) abandoned them. **

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**Chapter 2**

It was official. Morgan would have paid to see the look of shock cross the security guard's face again. But can he blame him? What are the chances of a bank getting robbed? You have a higher chance of someone mugging you on the streets, and yet in every movie it's always the bank that is getting robbed. Not to mention, of _all_ people, Emily is the last person he'd pick to be carrying a gun. She just looks too innocent.

But she is stronger than she appears, and damn, she couldn't be anymore stubborn. Which is why she always gets the first scare.

There are screams and everyone – him included – drops to the floor. Again. Part of their master plan.

"Give me the money and no one will get hurt."

Morgan has to keep from laughing at the cliché line coming from her lips. Later, they will head to a bar and joke about it, but for now they have to focus on the plan ahead. The tattooed kid crawls up next to him. There is a look of determination masking his face, and Morgan has to force himself not to roll his eyes. No matter how small the hostage group is, there is always a rebel in every bunch.

"You could take her," the kid urges him. Apparently, the kid would rather have someone else play hero.

"So could you," Morgan shoots back, and the kid gives him an incredulously look before clamping his mouth shut.

"Freeze!" the guard shouts.

From where Morgan is lying on the ground, he can see Emily roll her eyes. The banks they rob have one retired guard on duty and probably didn't get this type of thrill in their whole career.

"No," Emily snaps. "You first."

"Freeze or I'll shoot." The officer's hands are shaking so bad Morgan doesn't think the guy would have been able to hit a stationary target if his life depended on. Neither of them has been shot yet – though they've come close to it – and though Morgan highly doubts that today will be the day, he's not taking any chances.

"I swear to God Lady, I'll shoot you. Drop the gun." The guy is trembling so bad, it's almost pathetic.

Emily raises her gun, though she has no intentions of shooting it. They aren't here to hurt people. And to make sure this would never happen, they loaded it with blanks. Morgan knows this, but the guard does not, which is why they have added part B to their plan.

Morgan waits until the guard is right in front of him, and just as the guy clicks off the safety, he jumps up from the ground and tackles the guard to the floor. He almost feels bad that he has just proven to the guard that there really was a reason to be cautious of him. But it's all part of the plan. Like he said earlier, there is no going back.

The rest is a blur, but it doesn't matter. He can tell you how things played out from the previous banks they have robbed. There are more screams. More shots fired from Emily's gun. He knows this routine inside and out. He could have done it in his sleep or with his eyes closed. He knows it so well he almost doesn't even realize that he has knocked the gun out of the officer's hand.

The gun lands with a thud, before it skids widely across the floor, only stopping at Emily's feet. Immediately, she picks it up and takes out the bullets. Only the officer seems to notice this, and gives him a 'WTF' look. Their remaining hostages don't take notice or seem to care, for they are too busy praying that today isn't their last day.

Morgan actually feels bad for handcuffing the guy to the pole. He always does, which is why he always says, "I'm sorry," after.

This just confuses the poor guy even more. "Who the hell are you people? And what kind of robbers are you?"

There is a cross between hatred and wonder in his eyes. But Morgan does not blame him. They are not your typical robbers. Hell, the money they steal isn't even for themselves. But if you have to do evil in order to do good, does that make you bad? There is a fine line between right and wrong, you hear that cliché all the time. But no one tells you that the moment you cross it would be the one you least expected. Morgan remembers that day. How can he forget? It was the day he met Emily and Reid.

Morgan brushes himself off of the floor, leaving the guard at his feet. There are five hostages – not including the guard or the other employee. It's not the least amount they ever had, but it definitely isn't the most. Ironically, the least amount of hostages they ever had proved to be a problem. They were in Maryland at the time, and one sneaky bastard decided to play hero by tackling him to the ground. It was the first time Morgan ever had to hurt someone while on the job. He'd promised himself that that would be the last too.

At a quick glance, though, he can already tell that this group won't be a problem.

There's an elder couple clutching onto each other for dear life. The college student with the tattoos is cowering in the corner, and finally a mother and son are huddled in the middle. The young boy can't be more than five, and Morgan feels his heart drop at the sight.

Emily notices this too, and she sends him a questionable look. He nods for her to just get it over with. Sooner they're done, the better.

She kneels down in front of the clerk, who whimpers at the attention. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just need you to get in the back for me. Can you do that?" Emily doesn't even have to threaten the poor woman. She gets up, sobbing as she does so.

It's amazing what a gun can do. You don't even have to use it.

Morgan waits patiently as Emily disappears into a back room. The tattooed kid has pulled out his cell phone, but his fingers keep missing the right buttons. Morgan rolls his eyes. So _now_ the kid wants to take on the role of hero. He should take lessons. If this kid thinks he is being secretive about it, he is down right stupid.

And because Morgan can't help but scare the crap out of the kid, he asks, "Who are you calling? 911?"

The kid freezes and slowly looks up to meet his eyes. Now, Morgan can see him visibly shaking.

"A…are you going to kill me?" The kid asks, fear evident in his voice.

"No," Morgan says with a shrug. "Just wondering who you are calling."

The guy seems to go into shock or something and doesn't pick up his cell phone. Morgan almost feels sorry. The fear of getting shot can be traumatizing, so he decides to do the one thing a robber would_ never_ do; he picks the cell phone up off the floor and dials 911.

On the fourth ring a woman answers. _"911. Please state your emergency."_

He likes to watch their faces as he does it. It's amusing. Their image of a criminal, he knew, had no soul, no feelings. He likes to prove them wrong.

"A robbery is taking place."

"_Sir, are you being held –"_

"No. _I'm_ not a hostage." He pauses, then for the kick of things, he adds, "Catch me if you can."

Morgan hangs up the phone and throws it back to the tattooed kid. The police will arrive in approximately ten to fifteen minutes, he knows, but it doesn't matter, because they'll be gone in five.

Everyone stares at him for the longest time, but only the kid has the nerve to ask, "Why'd you do that?"

Morgan just shrugs. "You shouldn't judge a book by its cover," he tells them as if it were that simple.

*******

On the third ring Hotch finally picks up. "What is it Garcia?"

"There's another robbery taking place. The call just came in," she says in a mad rush.

Hotch slams on the gas peddle and turns on his sirens. "Where?"

*******

Emily stares out into space. Morgan had switched places with her– like they always did after he calls 911 – and she is now watching the hostages while he loads the money into the car. They didn't take much. They only took what they need, not what they want. And it isn't much.

The little boy – who can't be any older than five – is sitting in his mother's lap, shivering, arms lashed tight over his knees. Just for a moment the boy's face is one of the kids at the hospital she visits, and Emily has to keep herself from grabbing him and scaring him half to death.

The boy blinks up at her, slowly pecking his way through a shell of fear. "Are you a bad guy?" he asks eventually. His voice doesn't even falter, and this surprises her.

His mother shushes him and whispers something in his ear before pulling him into a protective hug only a mother could master.

Despite herself, Emily can't help but reply to that. No one has ever asked her it before, and she's glad he had the nerve to do it. "It depends," she says eventually. "Do you think Robin Hood is bad?"

At that, every eye turns to her. They are filled with question, but only the five-year-old is brave enough to ask the question on everyone's mind. "So you steal for the poor?" he questions her in way only a child could. The blond woman doesn't even shush him this time. Maybe she wants to know too.

"Something like that." Emily kneels down so she's eye level with him. "Bad is not an absolute, but a relative term. Just remember that."

The boy's face contorts into confusion. "I don't get it."

This time the mother pulls herself together and cuts in, "Let us go. _Please_," the lady sobs, and Emily's heart breaks – like it always did when someone asks her this. "The police are on their way. They'll catch you."

"Not this time."

"I still don't get it," the boy whispers. His voice – it's as light as a feather, but it strikes her like a whip.

This bothers her to no end. He is too innocent to be witnessing this, and yet she is compelled to make him understand. "Just ask the kidnapper who truly believed he was saving a life, or the rapist who was sexually abused as a child." She pauses to let that sink in. "Just because you break the law doesn't mean you have intentionally crossed the line into evil. Sometimes the line creeps up on you, and before you know it, you're standing on the other side."

"So you're a good guy in disguise." He looks up at her with warm brown eyes. "My daddy_ is_ the FBI."

Emily raises her eyebrows. "Is he?"

"Yeah. But I think he'll understand if you're doing it to help others."

She gives him a weak smile. Kids are so naïve. She'd watch them and she'd see how easy it was for them to believe in a world different from the one presented to them. She can only imagine that the saddest day for any parent will be the day their children stop pretending.

"What's your name?" he asks her, startling her.

The question takes her off guard. She wants to tell him her code name, but for some reason she can't lie. "Emily," she says with more honesty than she thinks possible.

He smiles at her. "I'm Jack."

The mother looks about ready to kill her, so Emily takes a step back. She nearly jumps out of her skin when she backs into a person. It's Morgan and he's laughing hysterically.

"Kay. Let's go, babe."

She glares at him.

The boy waves at them. "Bye."

"Jack," the mother scolds, and she grabs his arm.

Emily has to keep from laughing, but nevertheless she still waves back before heading out the door. Morgan slings his arm around her as they walk to their car. It's not parked too far away. In fact, it's only a block away, but it feels like it's a hundred. And it's not because she's afraid of getting caught. It goes deeper than that. With ever step closer to their car she wonders if she has done the right thing. On some level, no, but what about where the money they stole is heading? Would it matter then? Would it even make a difference?

Reid gives them a half smile from the backseat of the car. "All went well?"

"Yup. We got the money," she tells him.

They always do. But it isn't their track record that keeps them in this business. It is not the adrenaline rush; it is not even the potential happy ending. It is because, when you get down to it, they are the ones that are lost.

* * *

This is probably one of the last updates I'll be able to get in before I go on vacation. I'll be gone for practically all of July, so I'm trying to update most of my stories. I might be able to get one in next week. We'll see. I promise though, I'll return in august.

in the meantime. What'd you think?


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